


addicted to you (i've been waiting)

by nanamilks



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Han Jisung | Han, Couch Sex, Cuddlefucking, Edging, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Phone Sex, Shower Sex, Top Lee Minho | Lee Know, getting caught, minsung are very in love and tend to fuck like bunnies, sad nuts everywhere, until they don't have time anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28679565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanamilks/pseuds/nanamilks
Summary: It's finals season and between studying, completing projects, and trying to get enough sleep, Jisung can't seem to find a window for alone time with his boyfriend. Try as they may, every opportunity ends up rushed and a bit disappointing — until the universe finally lets them catch a break.(or: five times minho and jisung are caught by their friends in a compromising situation, and one time they're not.)
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 19
Kudos: 505
Collections: MINSUNG FICATHON: Round One; 2020





	addicted to you (i've been waiting)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [MINSUNG FICATHON](http://twitter.com/minsungficathon), for PROMPT **P083.**

**1**

Jisung turns on the tap and dumps their dishes into the sink, reaching for the soap and considering if he even has the energy to wash them tonight. If he just leaves them like this, Felix will rip him a new one in the morning like a mother triggered by the sight of an unwashed spoon. He frowns and looks over his shoulder as Minho slips into the kitchen with all of their snack wrappers and empty cans in tow, heading to dump them in the trash beside the fridge.

"Babe," Jisung starts, frowning more when Minho looks over at him, "you wanna wash these for me?"

Minho's eyes flicker to the running water and back to Jisung before he turns back to the trash can, stuffing their garbage in. He hums in thought as he crosses the room to step up behind Jisung, peering over his shoulder into the sink. He rests his chin there and tilts his head just enough to brush a kiss over his neck. "Not a chance in hell."

Jisung whines, broken by a giggle because he expected just as much. He grabs the sponge and the soap so he can start washing out the pot they'd eaten their ramyeon out of and the bowls they'd had ice cream in earlier in the night. Minho snakes his arms around Jisung's waist and leans into him limply with a little grunt, settling against his back comfortably. Jisung wonders if Minho could fall asleep like this.

He didn't realize how late it was until they'd finished their last game of Smash and the three AM infomercials were on when they turned the console off. It's their last weekend before preparation for finals begins and Jisung couldn't have asked for a better night in, curled up on his sofa with his boyfriend and hours upon hours of mindless anime, games, and food. His roommates had even joined them for a while before dragging themselves off to bed for work in the morning — one last bit of fun with all of them together has him feeling relaxed, like the upcoming weeks might not be so bad.

Jisung finishes up and turns the water off, grasping at the rag just out of reach to dry his hands. He's about to ask Minho if he's still awake, but Minho's purposeful mouth on his skin answers before he can. Jisung smiles lazily to himself, closing his eyes and revelling in the feeling of Minho's soft lips on him, his warm breath billowing over birthmarks and moles. Then there's the tip of his tongue tracing delicately along a tendon in his neck before his lips suck down on it. Jisung lets out a sweet sound.

"Aren't you sleepy?" he asks, resting his arms on top of Minho's that hold him just a little tighter. When Minho hums this time, the deep vibration of it sinks into Jisung and follows Minho’s kisses up to his jaw. Jisung turns his head and meets a set of sleepy eyes that must match his own, closing the gap between him and his boyfriend to steal one kiss, two kisses, three.

"Aren’t _you_?" Minho moves his arms just so he can rest his hands on Jisung's slight hips, pressing further into him while their kisses carry on, lethargic and shallow. The tiny, wet sound between their mouths gets to Jisung like it always does, encouraging him to turn around in Minho's grip and curl his arms around his neck.

"I could stay up a little longer," Jisung teases, smiling into their embrace and stealing more kisses, cupping the back of Minho’s neck with gentle palms. Minho's end up on his lower back beneath his shirt, thumbing circles into his skin and forming a barrier so that the edge of the counter doesn't dig into Jisung.

Minho's smile is breathtaking, and Jisung has to stop kissing him for a moment so he can admire it. "What exactly are we gonna stay up doing, honey?"

"Nooothin'," Jisung goes back in for more and Minho chuckles, happily parting his lips to let Jisung in when he dips his tongue into it.

Countless minutes pass and Jisung finds himself nearly panting into Minho's mouth, still moving slowly but eagerly, slick and obscene and making him weak in the knees. He’s already so needy for whatever they’re about to do, as if Minho hadn’t ravaged him just last night. He knows his cheeks are probably pink and the shells of Minho's ears probably are, too, and he moves his hands from Minho's hair so that he can feel how warm they are. Minho's grip on his hips has moved to Jisung's ass, kneading and squeezing here and there through his sweats, and he slides his touch to Jisung's thighs so that he can help lift him up onto the counter.

Jisung thinks of wrapping his legs around Minho's to take advantage of the feeling of Minho's obvious boner pressing against his own; it would be so easy to get Minho to just hump him right here and make a mess of their pajamas, but Jisung kind of wants to take him to bed and get everything he's got. With his endgame in mind he decides he should get him as worked up as possible, so that when they get to Jisung's room maybe Minho will throw him down and take him hard…

Jisung slides a hand down Minho's chest and palms over the crotch of his joggers before dipping into his boxers. He brushes along the length of him, listening to Minho gasp as he wraps his fingers around his shaft and strokes at a pace he knows is way too slow. Jisung moans as Minho presses his fingertips into his thighs. When he hears the sound of Minho’s breath catching in his throat, he knows he's already got him right where he wants him. He twists his wrist how Minho likes it and trails his lips to his boyfriend's jaw.

"You like that?" Jisung murmurs as he speeds up his movements. Minho tips his head back a bit, eyes closed and lips fallen apart so small sighs can seep out.

"Yes, baby," he breathes, cursing as Jisung squeezes beneath the head of his cock and sinks his teeth into the sensitive skin of his neck at the same time. "Just like that."

Jisung works in the beginnings of a hickey. "Would be better if it was my mouth, huh? Or my—"

"Oh for fuck's sake," a shrill voice startles both of them, Jisung pulling his hand out of Minho's pants and Minho jumping back nearly a foot apart from him. Jisung’s roommate Jeongin is standing in the archway of the kitchen, disheveled from sleep with an empty glass in his hand, come to get a refill of water. "Are you serious? We _cook there!_ "

If Jisung's face was pink before, it's a blaze of red now. He jumps down from the counter and holds his hands up defensively. Minho does, too, still keeping his distance from Jisung with a fear in his eyes like Jisung's dad just caught him making out with his son. "No, no, no, Innie, we weren't—"

"I wasn't gonna... we weren't doing anything, like—"

Jeongin squints at them through their embarrassed rambling. "Yes you were! Minho, don't you have your own house?!"

Jisung comes to Jeongin, ready to beg forgiveness for how he's just sinned in broad daylight. "We were about to go to bed!" He attempts to reach out to touch Jeongin's arm with his dirty hands and Jeongin side steps away from him, grimacing and holding up his elbow as a warning.

"I'm sure you were. Can I get a drink or are you two gonna fuck against the refrigerator next?"

Jisung and Minho retreat from the kitchen to leave Jeongin be, heading down the hallway to Jisung's room. The younger closes the door and rests his back against it, scrubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms and groaning into the dark. Minho sprawls out on the bed, silence dragging between them until they hear the creak of the floorboards and Jeongin's bedroom door shutting across the hall. Heavy sighs leave their chests.

"Still horny?" Minho asks, making Jisung groan in embarrassment again.

"I'm never having sex again. Never in my life."

It's a bit prophetic. 

**5**

Minho’s morning alarm startles Jisung out of a drooling, dreamless sleep. He groans into Minho's chest, muffled by the material of his t-shirt, and tries to tune out the earsplitting marimba coming from the bedside table so he can go back to sleep. When Minho doesn't wake up to turn it off, Jisung groans again and hits him weakly in the ribs, finally getting him to stir. They have a conversation made solely of groans and whines until Minho rolls onto his back to blindly grab his phone and put the alarm on snooze.

He has no idea what time it is or what time they ended up falling asleep last night. Jisung came over for the study session they have every week where they'll work on their own projects side by side and offer uninformed, highly biased opinions of each other's work. Jisung doesn't know the first thing about computer programming and Minho couldn't name a single art movement, but they swear the other's efforts are the best they've ever seen.

Usually, those sessions end up involving hands on bodies rather than on computer keys and paint brushes, but they're both so behind on their finals that they work all night until Jisung can't keep his eyes open anymore and the light of Minho's laptop is starting to give him a headache. Jisung crawls into bed first and holds his arms open for Minho who flips off the light and tucks himself around him. They're out within moments of heads hitting pillows.

Jisung's still tired and definitely wants to sleep for a little longer, but Minho has a lecture in about an hour that he can't afford to miss with an exam so close. Jisung doesn't have class until one, and as much as he'd like to hibernate in Minho's bed all morning, he knows the responsible thing to do is head to the studio and get back to work. He huffs and drags himself to sit up, combing his fingers through his hair and scrubbing his hand over his face.

"Good morning," Minho says, voice gravelly. Jisung looks down at him with furrowed, displeased eyebrows. He always forgets how enticing Minho's morning voice is until he hears it. "Can I skip?"

Jisung shakes his head in big, sweeping motions to convey just how bad of an idea skipping class would be. Minho frowns, his puffy, pink lips pressing together and drawing Jisung's eyes to them.

"Please?" Minho reaches an arm out as a gesture for Jisung to come to him and of course he goes, lying against his chest and letting Minho wrap his arms around him. Jisung shakes his head again and tips his chin up so he can press a couple soft kisses beneath his jaw.

"You can't, baby," he mumbles, lifting his head enough to meet Minho's lips with his own. He shifts to get more comfortable, hands on Minho's broad chest for support. He wants Minho to go to class but he's also a sucker for morning Minho in all his deep-voiced, swollen-mouthed, bedheaded glory. The way he kisses him just a little deeper suggests he doesn't actually want Minho to choose class over this. Still, he threatens, "be good."

Minho snorts in amusement, holding Jisung's little waist as the younger straddles him. He trails his kisses from Jisung's lips to his neck, grazing his teeth over the skin and licking lazy little circles against it. "I wake up with my baby right here," he bites Jisung's neck a little harder, drawing a gasp from him, "kissing me, with his morning wood in my lap, and you tell me to _be good_."

Jisung breathes a laugh, closing his eyes and disintegrating into Minho's touch, how his thumbs are rubbing into his hip bones now. "Mm, whose baby am I?"

Their eyes meet before they're going back in for more kisses, Minho whispering into his mouth, "my baby."

Before long, Jisung is cupping Minho's cheeks to hold him in place as their kisses grow from slow and sleepy to deep and deliberate. Minho grips Jisung's ass through his basketball shorts, earning tiny noises from Jisung that he swallows like he's hungry for them. Minho's alarm wakes up from its snooze and it takes quite a bit of strength to pull away from Jisung to turn it off.

"Do you wanna shower with me?" Minho asks, the catlike smirk spreading across his face very telling of his intentions.

"You're gonna be late, babe," Jisung whines, although getting his shit wrecked against the shower wall always sounds like a great way to start his day.

Minho whines, too. "We can be fast. We don't have to do anything crazy," he pulls Jisung's hands from where they're on the bed either side of him, lacing their fingers together. "Come ooon~ We haven't fucked in, like, three days."

"Five days, actually."

"Which is exactly why we should fool around in the shower," Minho wiggles his eyebrows and Jisung laughs, pushing at Minho's chest with their intertwined hands. "Doesn't that sound so nice right now?"

Jisung stares him down for a long three seconds before he's climbing out of bed and pulling Minho up with him. They grab a change of clothes from the closet and a towel, then slip out of Minho's bedroom to shuffle down to the bathroom, sure to keep quiet so they don't wake Minho's roommate.

With his back pressed to the tile and Minho all over him, all of the want Jisung's had for Minho over the last five days hits him like a ton of bricks. They're licking into each other's mouths when Minho starts working a second finger into him. Jisung tips his head back, sopping wet hair splaying against the wall and fingers gripping Minho's bicep tight enough to bruise. He doesn't think it'll take him too long to cum, and Minho seems determined to get him there fast—

"Minho," Chan says from the other side of the door, banging his fist on it and startling them silent. "You're not the only person that has shit to do today, dude! Stop fucking hogging the shower, I'm gonna be late!"

They watch each other's eyes in another silent conversation. They could risk hogging the shower for another ten or so minutes and achieve a very hurried nut, but Chan's a bit scary in the morning as is, let alone when he's being tested. Minho fingers him uncertainly for another moment before he pulls his hand away. Jisung visibly deflates, knocking his head back against the wall a few times in frustration.

"I'm sorry," Minho whispers, brushing his lips over Jisung's cheek when he reaches to turn off the water. "I'll kill him."

"I'll help," Jisung pouts, stepping out of the shower and toweling off. The pain of getting cockblocked is almost overshadowed by the pain of having to tuck their boners into their pants as they get dressed, leaving the bathroom with fallen faces and avoiding the eyes of a grumpy Chan who knows exactly what took them so long. 

**7**

"Hey," Jisung turns on his stool to Seungmin, scrubbing his palette knife around his paint tray. "Which green?"

They've been in the studio for a couple of hours now, working at two easels side by side on the final for their painting class. Seungmin isn't even a painting major like Jisung but had agreed to sign up for the class with him, fond enough of the craft and assuming it'd be a nice, relaxing break from photography and art history twice a week. It's crunch time now, though, and with three portraits each due in just a couple of weeks, Jisung figures Seungmin is sorely regretting his decision. He feels bad for talking him into this, but he's glad he has him here to suffer with. It makes everything far more bearable.

Seungmin studies the two shades of green Jisung made, and then looks at his canvas. "For what?"

Jisung points with his pinky — the only paint-free finger he has left — to the nose of his subject. "The shadow on the bridge. I'm trying to match the shadows here," he points to the cheekbones, "but I made that color last week and this is as close as I can get."

The younger _ooohs_ in consideration and picks the lighter hue. "That one is closer."

Always trustworthy of Seungmin's artistic opinion, Jisung nods and carries on with his work, scooting closer to the easel so he can watch his brushstrokes carefully. He's glad for Seungmin's company more than anything, the way they can sit for hours upon hours talking while they paint and listen to music through the speaker of Jisung's phone, but he's also grateful that he can get his opinion on tiny details like this that make all the difference.

Ten minutes of wordless painting pass before Seungmin checks his phone and groans. He stands up and wipes his hands on his apron before untying it and lying it on the work table behind them. Jisung looks up from his canvas and watches him take his brushes to the sink to wash them out.

"Class already?" Jisung asks, shifting on his stool so he can sit on one of his legs. He rubs at his nose with the back of his hand and suspects he's just wiped acrylic paint on it, but ignores it; he's sure he has streaks of yellow and pink on his cheek from when he'd scratched it earlier.

"Hopefully she lets us out early again," Seungmin comes back and leaves his brushes to dry beside his easel. He pulls on his coat and then slings his backpack over his shoulder. "Be back in an hour," he says on his way to the door.

"I'll be here," Jisung smiles his way. Seungmin presses the door closed, and then it's just Jisung and the quiet lofi from his phone. He doesn't have anywhere else to be tonight, and while he could paint at home, he knows Felix gets a little antsy about how messy Jisung is when he works, always worried about him flinging or spilling paint and then they'll never get their deposit back. There's also way too many distractions at home, and here in the studio, all Jisung has to keep himself entertained is his work. It's why he spends most of his time out of class here.

He reaches for his phone to find a different mix and instead finds a text notification from Minho, planting a smile on his face. Minho's been busy all day, only checking in for their daily " _good morning, have a good day, I love you,_ " text but otherwise remaining silent. It's half past six now and Jisung hopes he hasn't been working or studying the entire time, that he's at least taken a couple of breaks here and there. Knowing Minho, though, he hasn't.

 **baby 🥺🧡 (6:16 PM):** hi pumpkin are u still at the studio?

 **kitten 💞 (6:32 PM):** hiiii yes am here suffering

 **kitten 💞 (6:32 PM):** what's up?

Jisung assumes by the lack of response that follows in the next few minutes that Minho's studying again or having dinner, and although he pouts, he accepts it and busies himself with the left eye of his portrait.

He's so immersed in getting the highlights in the iris just right that he doesn't pay any mind when the studio door opens, figuring it's another student coming in to paint. He pulls back from the canvas to dip his brush into his white paint again when a hand on his shoulder makes him jump so hard that his soul nearly leaves his body. His clumsy footing on the railing of his stool almost makes him fall, but an arm around his torso keeps him upright.

"Minho," Jisung whines, wanting to be annoyed but unable to keep from laughing as his boyfriend giggles against his cheek, smothering him in kisses. "You asshole!"

"Nice to see you, too," Minho beams, poking his lips out to accept the greeting kiss Jisung is inevitably going to give him, pout as he may. Jisung of course does, leaning in to peck him over and over again. He hasn't seen Minho in a couple of days, and to have him right here when he least expected it has his stomach overflowing with butterflies. He doesn't think he could stop smiling even if he wanted to.

"What are you doing here?" he sets his palette and brush down on the table behind him, turning to properly face Minho who stands between Jisung's legs, letting himself be reeled in by Jisung's arms around his waist. Minho's holding a sealed bubble tea and a straw, and when he presents it to him, Jisung feels like he might cry for some reason. It's his usual order from the cafe they always go to, and the straw is red, his favorite color. Leave it to a simple gesture from Minho to make his entire day.

"I wanted to see you," Minho says, a little bit shy. He stabs the straw into the milk tea for Jisung and holds it for him so he can take a long drink. He smiles at the way Jisung's cheeks fill up with it before he swallows it down, the way he always drinks anything. "I missed you."

Minho pulls the cup away only so he can wrap his arms around Jisung in a hug, just as Jisung is burying his face into his chest to hide the primrose blush creeping across his skin. Jisung curls his fingers into the back of Minho's coat, sealing them together as if to seep right into Minho and keep them from ever having to be apart again. "I missed you more," he mumbles, muffled by the fabric of Minho's shirt. Minho kisses him on the crown of the head.

It's nice just sitting there and talking about everything and nothing at all, gossiping and venting and joking around like there are no worries. Minho pulled up Seungmin's stool so he could sit close to Jisung and Jisung has his legs draped over Minho's lap, idly playing with his boyfriend's fingers while he tells him about the "absolute and total bullshit" that happened in his lecture last night. Minho nods along, his gaze flickering to Jisung's mouth every few words until he can't help himself, leaning in to close the gap between them and plant a fond kiss on him. Jisung makes a surprised little noise but melts into it easily, cupping Minho's jaw as it deepens.

When it gets _too_ deep and Minho is gripping one of Jisung's thighs in his lap, Jisung groans and pulls away. "Baby, don't start things you can't finish," he frowns, but allows Minho to come back and attach his lips to his neck.

"Who says I can't finish this?" Jisung can hear the smirk in Minho's voice. He sucks in a breath when Minho pinches his skin with his teeth.

"Really? Right here right now?" Jisung pulls farther away, giving him a disbelieving glare. "We're in _public!_ "

Minho raises an eyebrow and looks around the room, tipping his head as if to check in nooks and crannies, and then back to Jisung. "I don't see anyone else in here."

Jisung sputters. "But they could come in any second!"

"Ooh, exciting."

" _Minho_."

The older mirrors Jisung's pout, and Jisung can't help but to come back for more kisses. "Am I wrong? You don't think getting sexy in the art room where anyone could walk in at any time is _exciting_? Aren't you the same guy that tried to bone me in the back of a movie theater on our second date?"

Jisung kisses him harder to shut him up. Minho chuckles and lets himself be devoured.

"Mhm," he pulls Jisung over to straddle his lap. "You forget that I know you very well, Han Jisung."

He doesn't necessarily _feel_ sexy today, dressed in a paint-splattered sweatshirt and sweatpants that are both much too big for him, flat hair and no makeup, but the way that Minho kisses him and touches him all over makes him feel like the most desired boy in the world. He's always had that effect on him. And although Minho looks good enough to eat every second of the day, Jisung hopes he makes him feel the same way.

Minho has him pinned up against the work table, tongue all but down Jisung's throat as he ruts up against his crotch, practically humping him. Jisung can tell he needs this, needs _him_ , so eager and needy like he just can't control himself. It feels dizzyingly good, the hard outline of Minho's dick on his own, and moans start slipping into their kiss. Jisung needs this too, and seeing how desperate Minho is for him when it's usually _Jisung_ begging for _his_ touch awakens something in him.

He slides his hands from Minho's lower back down to his ass, squeezing it but then using his hold on it to slow Minho's hips down. Minho lets out what Jisung can only describe as a whimper, tightening his grip on the edge of the table.

"Slow down, sweetheart," Jisung coos, grazing his lips along Minho's jawline. "I'm not going anywhere."

He starts guiding Minho's movements, whispering praises into his skin about how good he is for relaxing, for letting Jisung take control. He rocks their hips in slow waves at first, lets them speed up until it's fast and they're getting too loud, and then eases back again. Minho's breath shakes in his throat and his chest rises and falls quickly.

Ultimately, Jisung himself begins to grow impatient, too, but teasing Minho is so much fun. "More?"

"Please," Minho breathes, face buried in Jisung's neck. "Please, baby."

Jisung reorients them so that Minho is the one pinned to the edge of the table. He tries to watch Minho's face while he grinds against him, still holding his hips tightly in place. Minho is much stronger than Jisung and could easily overtake him if he wanted to, but instead he stands there and lets himself be taken care of. The noises that come out of him sound suspiciously like purring, broken in the middle by higher-pitched mewls. Jisung might go crazy.

"My needy boy gonna come in his pants?" Jisung presses their mouths together in a wet kiss. Minho cups the back of his neck and moans out loud, and Jisung swallows it down. His own voice trembles with how close he is to coming, too. "Good b-boy."

"Feels so good," Minho manages to get out, and Jisung nods in agreement.

"So good, angel. You feel so good."

"J-Jisung..."

"Yeah, that's it baby, come on—"

Minho starts panting and his body goes stiff as he comes, whispering Jisung's name over and over. Jisung keeps grinding until he comes, too, crying out much louder than he means to and digging his fingertips so deeply into the skin of Minho's waist beneath his shirt that he might break skin with his nails. It isn't until warmth starts spreading in his underwear that it dawns on him what they've just done. He thinks about dropping to his knees and getting Minho cleaned up, always a sucker for a mouthful of—

The studio door swings open and Seungmin's voice trails in with it. "I cannot fucking wait for that class to be o—" he stops in his tracks, furrowing his eyebrows when he sees his friends pulling away from each other like they've just been caught, wide eyes and rumpled clothing. "I leave for one hour and you make a booty call?"

"I didn't m— we weren't..!" Jisung smoothes his sweatshirt out, thankful now for the fact that it's a few sizes too big so that it hangs longer than it should, covering his crotch should his mess seep through the grey of his sweatpants. Minho grabs his coat and shrugs it on, zipping it up to take advantage of the knee-length of it. They both turn to face Seungmin, clearing their throats and keeping a good foot of space between them.

Seungmin squints and then shakes his head, taking off his backpack and his outerwear. He pulls his stool back to his easel and sits down, getting his paints back out and turning his back to the two of them. "You two are fucking shameless."

**11**

Jisung closes and locks his bedroom door, kicking off his shoes and tucking his phone between his shoulder and his ear. He starts unbuttoning his jeans on his way to the bed, hastily pulling his belt through the loops and tossing it onto the ground. It's just after two in the afternoon and he doesn't think he's ever felt quite so feral in his life.

"Yeah, I just got in my room. No one's home," he says, pulling the tight denim down his legs with some difficulty and kicking it off. He gets his underwear off next, starting a pile beside his desk chair. "Where are you?"

He can vaguely hear the sound of Minho running up or down some stairs, muttering an apology to someone as he breezes past them. "I'm going to the bathroom," he pants. The squeak of his sneakers on the tile of the hallway, and then the sound of him pushing a door open. "Here, I'm here."

Jisung climbs onto his bed, lying atop the covers and trying to get comfortable despite the way his entire body is buzzing with adrenaline. He combs his fingers through his hair before running his hand down his body, pulling his sweater up to his ribs so that he can brush over the sensitive skin of his tummy. "Take your dick out."

Minho barks out a surprised laugh, followed by the sound of his backpack hitting the bathroom floor. They've only got about ten minutes before Minho has to be to his next class and maybe this isn't a very smart idea, but they're both so beyond desperate by now that any opportunity to fuck is an opportunity they need to take. Even if they can't be together physically. "Yes, sir."

"God," Jisung hisses, wrapping his hand around the base of his soft dick and starting to stroke it to life. He'd been in the middle of studying for his art history final and wasn't necessarily horny by any means, but when he'd gotten a text from Minho asking if he wanted to "phone fuck in five minutes" it didn't matter. As if it's ever been hard to get it up with Minho. "I want it."

"Yeah? It's been a while since you've had it, hasn't it?"

"Mhm," Jisung nods even though Minho can't see it. He imagines what Minho must look like right now; he doesn't know what he wore to class today but he conjures up some outfit he'd like to see him in, messy dark hair all windswept from how he'd ran, maybe he's got his glasses on today because he needs them for his lectures since he likes to sit in the back. Then he imagines his cock, how pretty it is and how it sometimes feels like it was made just for Jisung. "Are you hard?"

"Yeah, I have been for weeks. Keep talking to me, baby," Minho sighs. The way that his breath shakes tells Jisung that he's started touching himself, too, and that mental image makes Jisung moan out loud as he squeezes his dick. "What are you doing?"

"M'touching myself. I wish it was you, I... I want you to be here with me. T-touching me everywhere and fucking me until I cry." It's amazing how easily this stuff comes out of Jisung these days; when they'd first started seeing each other he'd get so shy when they'd sext or talk on the phone late at night that their horny little conversations would often just be Minho narrating and Jisung offering pathetic little squeaks in response. "Until I c-can't walk."

The groan Minho lets out is soft, more of a harsh breath than anything, but it goes straight to Jisung's crotch. "Wanna fuck you so bad, sweetheart. I wanna see you. See your tight little body," his voice echoes in the bathroom and he groans again. "Watch you bounce on my cock."

Jisung's fully hard and edging on delirious by the time he reaches over to his bedside table and pulls the top drawer open, fishing through discarded papers, skincare, and other junk until he finds his neglected bottle of lube. He pops the cap and haphazardly squirts a bit across two of his fingers, tossing the bottle to the end of his bed and warming the gel before he reaches between his spread legs.

He doesn't waste any time teasing his rim like Minho would, doesn't try to mimic what it would be like if Minho was kissing and biting his thighs like he usually does when he's fingering him open. Instead he immediately starts pressing the tip of a finger in, easing it past the ring of muscle and arching his back into the sensation.

"Your cock, your big fucking cock," Jisung whines, working his finger in and out slowly until he can get it past the second knuckle. "God, can we FaceTime? I wanna see it."

Minho laughs again, but it's a little strangled. "Did you forget what it looks like?"

"I miss him. I know he misses me, too."

"Mhm, he talks about you all the time."

" _Minho_ ," Jisung gripes, round cheeks starting to warm. "I didn't call to talk to _you_. Put your dick on the phone."

The trilling of Minho's too-loud laughter makes Jisung smile brightly, pulling himself to sit up so he's not at such an ugly angle for their call. He nestles himself into his pillows against his headboard, holding his phone in front of him as it begins to ring with Minho's FaceTime request. He accepts it almost instantly and finds himself significantly more aroused just by the sight of him, if that were even possible.

He claims he's here to see his dick and his dick only, but Minho looks _good_. He's got his glasses on just like Jisung predicted he would, hair a bit mussed and brushed out of his face, wearing a cozy looking black top with thin fabric that drapes over his chest in a way that has Jisung wanting to see his tits in their full glory. He plunges his finger faster and deeper inside of himself.

"You're so fucking hot. What the fuck," Jisung moans, closing his eyes for a moment as he tries to rub over his prostate. Minho never has any trouble finding it. Jisung wrinkles his nose in frustration.

"I thought you wanted to talk to my dick."

"I was just saying hi. Pan down."

The sight of Minho's smile makes Jisung's stomach burst with butterflies. Not only has it been a while since they've had sex, but it's been a minute since they've even seen each other. Three Minho-less days are three days too many if you ask Jisung. He misses him so much but knows he doesn't have time to get sappy right now.

Minho holds his arm a little above him so that Jisung can see more of him, angling the shot so that his face is still in frame but his body is, too, down to where his thighs get cut off by the edge of the screen. He's got his cock in his hand, working it slowly and brushing his thumb over the weeping tip, making him draw his bottom lip between his teeth. Jisung takes the liberty of starting to work his second finger in, making sure Minho can see it. They moan in sync.

"God, you look so pretty, baby. You take your fingers so well, wish they were mine," Minho breathes as he leans his head back against the bathroom wall. The shape of his parted mouth, his pouty pink lips from this angle begs Jisung to reach through the phone and kiss him.

Jisung starts to fuck himself faster, curling his fingers inside of himself and whimpering, a soft noise nearly lost in the sound of squelching lube on skin. "Wish too, I— _fuck_ , I need to see you. I n-need you so bad, Minho."

Minho's fisting his cock quicker, seemingly in time with the pace that Jisung's fingers are going. "Would fuck you just how you like it, angel. I'd put you on your back, put your legs over my shoulders and fold you in half, yeah? Pull on your hair and make you look at me while you take it. G-Give it to you hard."

"Oh my god," Jisung gasps, throwing his head back and rocking his hips down greedily, meeting the thrusts of his fingers halfway. "Want you so deep, baby—"

"Make you feel me in your stomach. I want you to see it."

"Yes, yes, oh fuck," Jisung can't decide if he wants to arch his back or squeeze his legs shut or keep rocking down as the pleasure starts to swallow him whole. He can barely hold his phone still at this point so he moves to sit on his knees, propping his phone up against the wall so Minho can get a landscape view of Jisung with his ass in the air and his cheek against the mattress. He resumes wrecking himself with three fingers, crying out and keening like he can't get enough. "More, more, _please_..."

"Look at my baby. So fucking perfect. So ready to take me like the little slut you are. You want it, Jisung?"

"Yes, god, _yes_ , Minho, a- _ah!_ "

Minho's losing his composure, too, moaning out loud with every other movement with his face screwing up like he's getting close. "What do you want? Say it."

Jisung's free hand clutches the duvet, tugging on it and letting his eyes roll back until they squeeze shut. "Fuck me, _fuck me_ , fill me up, Minho, I—I'm a slut, I'm your little slut, baby," the noises that leave him are getting higher and higher pitched.

"I'll fuck you so good, Jisungie. You'll never fucking forget how this cock feels inside of you."

Jisung slips his other hand beneath him so he can jerk himself off in time with his fingers, punching long whines out of his heaving chest as he writhes and buries his face into the bed. "Baby, baby, oh shit, oh my god, I'm gonna— _a-ah_ —"

He turns his head and forces himself to open his eyes so he can look at the screen, just seconds from coming, so that he can see Minho as he tips over the edge. He's training his gaze on Minho's blissed out face when a notification banner slips down to cover it. The first spark of his orgasm comes as he's reading it. It's from his mom.

"Fuck, what the fuck, what the fu—" he shrieks.

He doesn't even know what it says. Mortification tries to take over but the knot unraveling in his stomach is stronger. Jisung cries out and squeezes his eyes closed again, fucking himself through an orgasm that feels a lot more like punishment than satisfaction now, sobbing into his duvet with it. He can't see Minho but he can tell by the hitch of his breath and the growl that follows that he's coming, too.

Minho, never one to be quiet when he's busting a nut, goes quiet only seconds after starting to cum and Jisung worries that their call might have dropped. He's panting when he lifts his head to look at his phone and finds Minho still there, gone silent but still working his cock and coming all over his hand. His face looks far more defeated than sated and when Jisung hears a distant knocking, he understands why.

"Hyung? Come on, man, we're gonna be late," the voice on the other side of the door sounds like Changbin, Minho's friend from class that Jisung's met a couple of times. "What are you doing, jacking off?"

Minho finishes coming, closing his eyes and exhaling deeply through his nose. His entire face begins to turn red starting from his ears; he looks about as humiliated as Jisung feels. Jisung slumps in his bed, pulling a pillow over his head and hoping he suffocates.

"I have... to go," Minho whispers. "I'm renting us a fucking love hotel."

"Death would be better."

"I don't get it. We're nice people. This is so fucked up." He hears the sound of metal clanging and toilet paper ripping. "I'll talk to you later. I love you so much."

Jisung mumbles that he loves him too, and their call ends.

Lying in his own mess with his stomach full of shame, Jisung considers that maybe this is, in fact, a punishment for something he did in a past life. He wonders how many more sad nuts it'll take to be forgiven. 

**15**

Jisung wishes that Minho had given him a warning so he could have made sure to wear comfortable shoes. His big, bulky platform boots aren't ideal for running, literally _running_ from his lecture hall so that he can make it across campus in three minutes rather than the seven it would take if he were walking. In reality there's no way Minho could have predicted this window would have opened for them, so when he texted Jisung to say he had the studio to himself for a bit before his buddies would show up, Jisung hadn't asked any questions. Just booked it out as soon as his professor released the class.

The performance building welcomes him with a blast of heat from an overhead vent and the distant sound of the university's band practicing. He's only been in here a few other times but he remembers the way to the studio, heading all the way down the hallway to his right. The practice room is at the very end, separated from all of the other performance rooms in the building for an air of privacy, and Jisung couldn't be more thankful.

He peeks through one of the narrow windows and spots Minho just out of view, stretching in front of the big mirror that makes up the far wall. Jisung gets on his tiptoes to peer further into the room, from one side to the other, and when he's sure Minho's alone he pulls the doors open and startles Minho nearly out of his skin. They stare at each other from across the room, wide eyes and heaving chests, until Jisung whips his backpack off of his shoulder and tosses it to the ground. Minho seems to move just as Jisung does, meeting each other in the middle of the room with Jisung's hands cupping Minho's jaw and Minho's gripping his waist, mouths colliding as their bodies do.

"Hi," Minho chuckles against his neck, biting and licking at the column of Jisung's throat before rounding to the other side where he starts sucking a hickey beneath his jaw. Jisung moans out loud, digging his fingers into Minho's shoulders. If Minho were to roll his hips forward, their clothed erections would brush over each other — and it's like he can read Jisung's mind, the purposeful roll of Minho's hips making them both gasp.

"Hi, baby," Jisung says, trying to push his hips down to grind right back. "I missed you. Can I suck you off?"

Minho groans and nods, licking his lips as he watches his boyfriend drop to his knees like it's second nature. Jisung wastes no time in tugging Minho's sweatpants down just enough to pull his cock out, standing to attention with an angry, red tip that looks like it hurts. He gathers spit in his mouth and immediately gets to work, spitting down the length of him before taking as much of him into his mouth as possible. The sound Minho lets out is heavenly.

Jisung knows that he's good at giving head, but the way that Minho always responds to it with his entire body always gives him the extra confidence boost. He threads his fingers into Jisung's hair and scratches at his scalp just the way he likes, makes Jisung purr around his dick like a cat. When Jisung peers up at him he sees wrinkled eyebrows and a wrinkled nose, jaw gone slack and his cute teeth peeking out from beneath his top lip. The look of pure bliss on his face encourages Jisung to bob his head faster, hollow his cheeks tighter, and jerk what won't fit in his mouth with a firmer grip.

"Fuck, Jisung. Hungry for hyung's cock, huh? Yeah?" Minho looks down at him and brushes his curtains of fringe out of his face so he can see the way his eyes tear up when he tries to take his cock into his throat. Jisung retches and squeezes his eyes shut but keeps going, a man on a mission. "So fucking good."

It doesn't take long for Minho to begin falling apart. It's been a long time since he's had Jisung's expert mouth on him, and with how pent up he's been over the past couple of weeks, it's not surprising that he'd be ready to blow so soon. Jisung doesn't mind; he wants to be the reason for at least one satisfying orgasm and he's ready to take it all. He misses the taste.

He's letting Minho thrust freely into his throat, keeping his trained gag reflex at bay and gripping Minho's thighs tightly to keep himself grounded. Just knowing that he's the one causing Minho so much unfiltered pleasure has Jisung's own stomach in knots; he thinks it would only take one touch to his lonely cock for him to cum, if that.

"Shit, baby... I'm gonna cum," Minho all but whines, leaning forward a little to rest his palm against the mirror behind Jisung. He admires their reflection for a long moment, the incessant bob of the back of Jisung's head, how he's drowning in his big sweater, his cute little feet beneath his cute little ass. Then he looks down at Jisung, smiling a half smirk that, combined with the dark look in his eyes, makes Jisung feel weak.

"Swallow it like a good boy, okay?"

Jisung nods enthusiastically, pulling off so that he can suck the head in earnest, his hand pumping the shaft quickly. He watches Minho's eyes roll back and his face screw up desperately just before the first wave of cum hits his tongue, giving way to a stream that just keeps coming. Minho always cums so _much_ , and Jisung's more than willing to down it all, like it's just for him.

He breathes through his nose and lets him fill his mouth until his cheeks swell, stuffed. He pulls Minho's dick out and purses his lips, looking up at his boyfriend with crescent-shaped eyes that express his amusement since he can't really smile with his mouth full like this. Minho chuckles and ruffles his hair fondly. "Go on, pretty. It's for you."

The sound of laughter approaching the dance studio doors makes their eyes widen. Minho quickly tucks himself into his sweatpants and Jisung springs up onto his feet, sputtering around the load still in his mouth and clapping his hands over his lips. Minho turns to face the doors just as they swing open, Felix and another member of their dance team — Hyunjin, Jisung thinks his name is — coming in with their gym bags on their shoulders and loose clothes on for dance practice because, right, that's what Minho had reserved this room for in the first place.

The two stop in their tracks, Felix's eyebrows furrowing as he looks both Minho and Jisung over with a kind of knowing glint in his gaze. "Are we interrupting something?" he asks, and Jisung knows his face has to be bright pink.

"No, uh, no," Minho clears his throat, resting an innocent hand on Jisung's waist. "Jisung was just saying hi before class. Right, pumpkin?" he looks at Jisung, mischief in his smile. Jisung can only nod, trying to will himself to stop being embarrassed so his throat will open up.

"Right," Felix narrows his eyes, walking to the corner of the room with Hyunjin so they can drop their bags and turn on some music. With their attention finally off of him, Jisung swallows, has to do it twice to get it all down, and opens his mouth with his tongue out to show Minho that it's all gone. Minho wiggles his eyebrows and steals a quick kiss from his swollen lips.

"Good boy," he whispers, walking with Jisung to the door. He picks up the younger's backpack for him and helps him put it on, smoothing out his sweater and his hair and accepting another few kisses before Jisung pulls one of the doors open to leave. Minho goes pink around the edges when Felix and Hyunjin start hooting at the display.

"Have a good practice," Jisung smiles, winking on his way out. Minho still has hold of his hand and squeezes it once before letting go. "I'll miss you."

"Good luck with your exam," he beams. "Miss you more."

**18**

The grip Jisung has on Minho's hand tightens as they walk through the parking lot of Minho's apartment building, the soles of his sneakers sliding a little on the thin ice. He makes this stupid noise every time, a surprised little _woah_ , and every time Minho laughs and reaches out to support him so he doesn't fall.

It snowed today, the first snow of the winter, and they've been out since the morning enjoying their first real day of freedom now that finals are over. They're not sure how they did on their exams or projects or if they've even maintained their good GPAs, but they're so relieved to be done with it all. Jisung's thrilled to finally have Minho all to himself again, unable to keep from gazing at him with stars in his eyes every couple of minutes.

On the elevator ride up to Minho's floor, they talk about what they're going to do with the rest of their night now that it seems like they've done nearly everything they wanted to do, as far as catching up on stuff they couldn't do during finals. They'd gone out for breakfast, spent too many hours at a PC bang, played in the snow along the Han river, and went out to eat again, among other little unplanned moments Jisung captured in photos on his phone.

They've got plans to go shopping and check out a new art exhibit tomorrow, and maybe go visit Jisung's mom later in the week because she won't stop asking about Minho, but for now they're free to do anything they want. The thought only makes the smile that's been plastered to Jisung's face even brighter.

"You wanna watch that movie Seungmin’s been talking about? We can use Chan's Netflix," Minho suggests, fingers still laced with his boyfriend's while he holds his phone in his free hand and scrolls through his social media. Jisung does the same, leaning against Minho's side with his head against his shoulder.

"Yeah, it sounds good. Seungmin's never given me a bad movie recommendation," as expected from a film student.

"I'll ask Chan to set it up for us."

Jisung puts in the code to Minho's unit while the older is texting his roommate, walking in and flipping on the lights like he lives there. As they're kicking off their wet shoes and shrugging off their coats, the realization that the apartment is much quieter than it normally is at this time settles in. Chan usually gets home from class around six or seven and doesn't tend to work during the week, but with it well after nine and no sign of him, curiosity grows.

"Christopher?" Minho calls out, leaving Jisung in the kitchen so he can do a walkthrough to search for him. Jisung leans against the countertop and continues tapping around his phone, responding to texts from his roommates and informing his mother that, yes, he'll bring Minho to see her soon if she'd like to stop asking. 

Jisung looks up at the shift in the room's energy, finding his boyfriend standing in the doorway. He's staring at his phone with shock on his face, and when he looks up at Jisung, he looks like he's seen a ghost.

"Wh—"

"Chan's working until two. He picked up someone's shift."

Jisung blinks.

"So..." he slowly places his phone on the counter after setting it to _do not disturb_ , watching as Minho does the same. "We have the place to ourselves?"

Minho nods.

The perks of having a bartender as a best friend, for Minho, include free drinks whenever he stops in, and late night shifts that leave their apartment all to him. It's been a godsend on countless occasions; so many times has Minho hit Jisung with the "home alone, come over" text after midnight and many times has Jisung appeared at his door so they could bone without interruption for however many hours. They rarely get the opportunity at Jisung's place, considering at least one of his two roommates is always home. The quiet sessions they have in Jisung's bed when everyone's asleep are well and good and exciting, but being able to do whatever they want as _loud_ as they want for as long as they want — there's nothing quite as exciting as that.

It's been far too long since they've been able to. All at once, all of the desperation, neediness, and gut-wrenching _horniness_ Jisung's felt over the last few weeks comes rushing to the surface and washes goosebumps over his skin. He swears his eyes dilate like he's just had a rush of energy.

They're on each other in a flash, uniting with an intensity that nearly knocks Jisung off his feet.

Jisung kisses Minho like his life depends on it, like the breath leaving Minho's mouth is his only source of air and he's suffocating. With Minho's touch all over him his entire body feels like a livewire, every inch of his skin lighting up beneath his fingertips. He's so dizzy with their kiss that he barely realizes Minho's grabbing him by the backs of his thighs, but he checks in long enough to obediently wrap his legs around Minho's waist so he can be carried wherever. His back meets the fridge with a harsh thud and he winces, but he's ultimately too distracted by Minho's tongue in his mouth to care for the pain.

The next time Jisung checks in, he's being laid on the sofa and Minho's crawling over him, only allowing him a second to breathe before he's reattaching his mouth to Jisung's and dragging his hands wherever he can. He cups Jisung through his jeans and palms over him until he's moaning into their kiss, the younger tipping his head back with his eyes shut and Minho taking advantage of his bared neck to bite and suck hickeys back into his skin that never should have faded — if Minho had had the time, he would have made sure they stayed as vibrant and fresh as he always used to, bruises so big and deep that Jisung often had trouble covering them up.

"I missed you so fucking much," Minho murmurs against his skin, laving his tongue over a new, bright pink hickey lush with blood and teeth marks. Jisung reaches down to unbutton his own jeans and push them down his skinny thighs, a hint for Minho to go faster and get right to it. "Fucking torture being away from you."

Jisung can't form words to respond even though he feels exactly the same. He's too feverish with want to string a coherent sentence together, so he simply whimpers instead, pulling a growl from Minho that he can only describe as raw, savage. He tugs Jisung's jeans and underwear off, dropping them onto the floor and pushing his thighs apart as he goes back to licking into his boyfriend's mouth.

"My baby. Your cute little noises. _Fuck_ ," Minho reaches between Jisung's legs to stroke his rapidly hardening dick, rubbing his thumb beneath the head of it to draw a sweet, high noise from him. With his other hand he reaches into the couch cushions and fishes around until he finds what he's looking for: a well-used bottle of lube that he'd stuck in there ages ago for moments like this that Chan would be displeased to know happen so frequently.

Minho finger fucks him hard and quick, scissoring his fingers and curling upwards so he can rub over his prostate every few thrusts to get Jisung squirming and squealing like a little anime girl. It only eggs Minho on, gets him harder in his jeans until he can't take it anymore. He pulls them down just enough to get his cock out and he knows that, responsibly, they should use a condom to reduce the chance of getting anything on the sofa. But, realistically, there's no way he can tear himself away from Jisung long enough to go get one. Not with Jisung grabbing at his dick like that, so insistent on Minho putting it in him already.

So he puts Jisung's legs over his shoulders, his little socked feet behind his neck, and lines up with his hole, keeping his eyes on Jisung's all the while. They're huge, pupils blown wide with tears welling up in the corners. Minho starts pushing in and Jisung gasps, a big, shaking breath that escalates into a moan when Minho slides to the hilt. Jisung only lies still to adjust for a moment before he's rocking his hips down, pleading for Minho to give him something. And, fuck, does Minho give him his all.

The sound of Minho's hips slapping against Jisung's ass echoes throughout the room and surely the entire apartment, eclipsed only by the wrecked squeaks and too-loud cries leaving Jisung's agape mouth. He's got his fists to his chest, having grown unsure of what to do with them as the pleasure started coming faster and harder than he could keep up with. He'd been pulling at Minho's hair, his shirt, gripping at his ass and scratching down his back, leaving Minho quite the disheveled sight to see if only Jisung could keep his eyes open long enough.

"Fuck me, _fuck me_ , oh god, Minho—" Jisung wails, writhing in the cage of Minho's arms on either side of his body. Minho sits up on his knees, holding Jisung by the thighs and pounding in at a sharper angle, exerting himself to the point of sweating. Jisung just keeps howling for _more, faster, fuck me stupid_.

Minho lands a smack onto Jisung's thigh that already bears a red mark, combination of Minho's nails digging into it and previous strikes because he knows Jisung loves the white-hot feeling. "Always so fucking greedy, Jisung," he pants, turning his head to press an open-mouthed kiss to Jisung's ankle beside his head. "Who does this tight little ass belong to, huh? Who always gives you _exactly_ what you want? Tell me." Another smack.

Jisung reaches a hand behind him to grip onto the sofa's armrest for dear life. The look on his face is so beyond bliss, eyebrows always so expressive and there's drool threatening to spill. "Y-you," he manages, reaching down with his other hand to jerk himself off hastily. "You, baby, I'm yours, I'm _yours_ , oh fuck..."

Minho grins where his mouth is still pressed to Jisung's ankle, and he looks so hot like that, flashing his bright white teeth with his eyelids heavy beneath his messy, dark hair. Jisung's heart feels like it might beat right out of his chest. "Hell yeah you're mine," Minho laughs, a feral, breathy one. He drags his kiss-swollen lips along Jisung's calf and to his inner thigh where he sinks his teeth into the flesh there, making Jisung arch his back. " _Mine_."

It doesn't take much longer for Minho's thrusts to start faltering, his own growls and groans starting to quiver with how close he is. He pulls out much to Jisung's dismay, knowing fully well how much Jisung loves a good creampie, and jerks himself off as quickly as Jisung's working himself. He angles his cock toward Jisung's still-gaping hole that's fluttering greedily around nothing. "You want me to fill you up? Yeah? Want my cum?"

Jisung nods so quickly he might give himself whiplash. "Fuck yeah, baby, give it to me—"

That does it for Minho. He tips his head back as he comes, long strings of moans pouring from his throat as he paints Jisung's hole, his ass cheeks, his rapidly moving hand in white. Jisung can feel it seeping into him, so hot and cool at the same time, and when Minho's never-ending orgasm finally ceases the elder drives two fingers into him to fuck his cum in deeper. Jisung's entire body shakes as his own orgasm hits him like a ton of bricks. He screams.

"That's it, pumpkin, let it out. I know," Minho coos as Jisung sobs, lips pressed to the side of his knee that's slung over the top of the couch. He watches the fight leave Jisung's body until he's a shivering, whimpering wreck with a sticky mess all over his lower half and his spent cock resting on his tummy. Minho makes his way up Jisung's body so that he can dust featherlight kisses along his jaw and over his chin until he can press them onto his lips, the softness such a contrast from the way he'd devoured him not too long ago. Jisung melts into the couch cushions.

"Holy shit," Jisung sighs, draping his arms lazily around Minho's neck. It seems like it's been years since they've been able to fuck, to achieve a satisfying and uninterrupted orgasm at each other's hands. The post-sex exhaustion starts to settle in their bones, but Jisung's not ready to stop. They couldn't have fucked for more than, like, twenty minutes just now, and they've still got _hours_ until Chan comes home. He bites purposefully at Minho's lower lip, tugs on it and lets it bounce back.

"Wanna fuck me in the shower?"

⋯

They spend enough time making out under the hot water to get riled up again so Minho can take Jisung against the tiled wall, hand clapped over his mouth because he knows the sound of the shower isn't enough to cover his keening. They get out when the water starts to run cold and finish against the bathroom counter, watching their reflection in the mirror as Minho rails him from behind. Jisung slaps a hand on the mirror surface when the pleasure becomes unbearable, sliding down through the steam.

A much needed snack break leads them to Minho's bed, snuggled up beneath the covers with a pint of ice cream so they can actually watch that movie, Minho's laptop on the bedside table so they can see it while they spoon. They finish the ice cream and, with newly unoccupied hands, inevitably end up paying more attention to each other than the movie. The kisses they share now are soft and slow, languid as though they have all the time in the world to re-learn how the other tastes and feels, fingertips roaming like they're trying to map out new locations.

Jisung is on top of Minho this time around, seated on his lap with their upper bodies practically glued together with how closely they're holding each other. One of Minho's palms rests lightly on Jisung's lower back and the other thumbs nameless shapes into the soft skin of his bare thigh, both boys in a couple of Minho's big t-shirts and boxers. There's a little over an hour left until Chan comes home from work, and it seems like they've got the same idea about how to spend the time.

"I love you," Jisung whispers into the crook of Minho's neck, granting him control of his hips so he can rock them in unhurried waves over his own. He moans against his skin, tongue laving wantonly over the hickey he's just made there. Minho nuzzles Jisung's jaw with his nose until he lifts his head, leaning up to reconnect their lips in the same lazy manner they've gotten used to. He slips his hands into the back of Jisung's boxers and cups his ass like he's just seeking warmth. Jisung smiles against his mouth.

"I love you too, pumpkin," Minho murmurs, trying to act like he doesn't notice Jisung curling his fingers into the waistband of his underwear so he can pull them down and take his half-hard cock into his hand. "Love you so much, you know that?"

Jisung nods, smiling brightly enough to show his bright white teeth. "I do."

Minho helps Jisung out of his own boxers and pushes the striped fabric away. More affirmations of love, hushed declarations of how lucky one is and how the other is luckier, a childish back and forth like two lovesick teens. By the time Jisung is reaching beneath them to guide Minho's cock into him, sliding in with barely any resistance, he feels so in love and so happy to have Minho like this and in every other way he could ever dream of — he doesn't realize he's been tearing up until Minho is reaching up to wipe beneath his eye.

Their rhythm is relaxed and easy through and through, and Minho sits up so he can wrap his arms protectively around Jisung's waist, the younger's arms circling his neck, their foreheads pressed together with eye contact so comfortable, steady. The noises that leave them don't get much louder than sighs and small moans. It's so incomparably intimate and it's all theirs.

"I-I'm close," Minho whispers, long lashes fluttering closed every now and then and his hips rocking just the slightest bit faster up into Jisung. The younger runs his fingers through Minho's hair encouragingly, nodding softly before meeting his lips in a light kiss.

"Me too, baby," Jisung breathes and Minho snakes a hand down between them to take hold of Jisung's dick, stroking him off just as slowly as their hips are moving but he holds him with a grip firm enough to make Jisung gasp. "Come for me, huh? Come deep inside your baby."

Minho closes his eyes and lets his forehead drop against Jisung's shoulder, moaning into the fabric of his shirt and gripping both his hip and his dick tighter. Jisung starts to oscillate his lower half quicker, just barely starting to bounce. His impending orgasm courses through him warmly like sunshine and he lets his head fall back, moaning to the ceiling, and the feeling of Minho shuddering, stiffening, and spilling into him with a series of low groans has him coming, too. He keens Minho's name, burying into his neck now as he navigates them through their highs.

Their chests are heaving as their heart rates settle, sitting there in a hug and basking in each other's glow. When the front door opens and closes, they don't move, too relaxed and jellified to care. Moments pass before Chan knocks his knuckles on Minho's open bedroom door and pops his head in.

Chan frowns. "What are you guys still doing up?"

Minho turns his head to look at him, resting it on Jisung's shoulder. His dick is still buried inside of Jisung but their big t-shirts and Minho’s duvet cover up anything that could alert Chan to what they've just done. As if he can't tell by their heavy breathing and disheveled hair. 

Jisung can hear the smile in Minho's voice when he says, "just catching up."

**Author's Note:**

> catch me on my [nsfw twitter](https://twitter.com/lNNlEC0RE) for updates, drabbles, and sneak peeks~


End file.
